Johnny Silver Hand Novels & Stories

We attacked and the battle began, but I noticed that Adrian wasn’t fighting me. He was avoiding a direct fight with me, and it looked deliberate. He moved through the chaos, dodging my swings, his eyes darting toward me but never engaging. It was infuriating. Alpha Alessandro, on the other hand, was a different story—he was hell-bent on wiping us out, his attacks brutal and relentless. From what I could tell, only Adrian, his beta, and one other warrior from Silver Fang—whose name I couldn’t remember—were here. The rest weren’t Silver Fang. I was almost certain they were from Iron Claw, fighting alongside that bastard Alessandro.

I felt… clean. ​ I blinked, the room slowly coming into focus. I was lying on a cot in the corner of the small lodge, covered by heavy blankets. Kael Blackwood was sitting on the floor beside me, his back propped against the wall. He was shirtless, his shoulders broad and corded with muscle, and he was staring, wide-eyed, at my unconscious hand. ​ I followed his gaze. ​ My hand was clenched. Around my wrist, a delicate, icy cuff of pure silver metal was visible, glinting even in the dim light. It was beautiful, ornate, and clearly magical.

There’s no blame in his voice, just certainty—a kind of trust that feels like a lifeline. I swallow, feeling the grit in my throat. “It cost me.” He doesn’t argue. He doesn’t try to soften the truth. He just lets the silence settle between us, heavy with the things that don’t need to be said. That silence is its own language, saying everything words can’t. I raise a trembling hand to my chest, fingers brushing the silver there—once bright as moonlight, now dimmed, its gleam muted but not extinguished. It’s quiet, not gone, as if it too is resting, gathering itself for whatever comes next.

However, soon my stomach roiled violently. I bolted to the bathroom and vomited up everything I’d just eaten. The hollow weakness in my body dragged me back to that moment closest to death. I’d been tortured until I was barely alive. Afraid of answering to Daniel if I died, they called in a healer. She skimmed my test results, her brows knitting into a hard line. “Your silver poisoning has seeped into your bones, and your wolf soul is dormant. You won’t live long. “How long is your sentence? Three years? Perfect. You’ll die not long after leaving Silver Prison. No need to dirty the cell with your corpse.”

"The Wolf Queen wants another child." Kael said it while unfastening my nightdress. "You bear easily. Carry one more for her." Ten months later, I gave birth to a silver-eyed daughter. The midwife cut the cord, wrapped her in black cloth steeped in scent-severing herb, and carried her from the room before I could look twice. She was the second. Everyone at court knew that Seraphine had destroyed her moon-vein saving Kael and could never bear an heir. Otherwise, no daughter of Silvercrest would have been welcomed into the Wolf Keep. To Kael, I was never a partner. I was the Moon-Bound woman chosen to give the Wolf Queen children and the royal line its blood. No one asked whether I consented w

John sighed and reached into his pocket. The mother fucker pulls out a crisp white handkerchief with the initials JAH embroidered in blood red at the corner. “Seriously? How fucking old are you, man?” I couldn’t help but ask. John growled at me while his mate rolled her eyes and took the handkerchief using it to carefully take the necklace from Silvercloud. “There.” Sarael nodded, folding the handkerchief securely around the necklace so it couldn’t touch anyone. Silvercloud wiggled his nose then his jaw before doing a full-body shake. “Mother fucker. I didn't like that.” he shuddered.

I was drawn to his voice but I struggled against it. I wasn’t a killer. I didn’t crave violence and blood and death. Did I? I whipped my head towards Jake. There must have been something in my eyes, something ominous, because Jake dropped his hand and recoiled. “This is who you really are,” Silver said. “Embrace it, Johnson. Embrace your true self. Stop struggling. Give in. I promise you won’t regret it.” Silver’s voice was steady and hypnotic. I found myself nodding along.

My eyes widened upon remembrance and the feeling of dread intensified in my belly. “Who?”, I gasped my question a mere whisper against the deafening silence at the table. Father avoided my gaze,his jaw clenching. “Kian DaSilver, Don Silver’s grandson.” My mouth dropped open. The name DaSilver had been making rounds ever since Kian DaSilver took over his father’s position as Capo after his gruesome murder. Rumors churned that he was irrevocably cruel,pitiless and built like a bull. My frequent eavesdropping at father’s office had made me hear father curse at him for drug routes he had lost to him.

A drop of sweat dripped down his chest and along the detailed muscles of his six pack, his body looks fit and it seems like he has been working out lately. “Need a hand?”Jason asked as he had been standing still for over a minute now, waiting patiently for her to take his hands. “No, I need a head”. Silver responded unintentionally as she wasn't in her right state of mind. “You say what?”,Jason asked, he wasn't able to figure out what she said as her voice came out sounding like a whisper. His response was able to snap her out of her daydream. “I mean sure”. Silver shook her head severally in order to regain her senses before she took his hand and he assisted her up on her feet.

she explains, but I don’t miss the slight flinch, setting Zeke on edge, ready to tear him to pieces. My growl unifies with Fletcher’s, him turning to me, his eyes as pitch black as my own. “You go high?” He asks, his voice animalistic and barely recognizable. “I go low?” “Deal,” I nod, dropping Charity’s hand, striding past her with my mortal enemy. Ready to tear apart a rogue Alpha and then some. Realizing what we are about to do, the Gamma of Silver Run places herself in front of us. Her hand reaches out, the most subtle hum emitting from the contact.